60 sneezes later
by your-biohazardous-friend
Summary: post-episode seven story. Lee's flu turned up worst than it would seem on the first glance.


**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Detentionaire, TeleToon does. So yeah, I own nothing except my doubtful skills.

**A/N:** _28 sneezes later_ is my all time favourite Detentionaire episode, I couldn't miss an opportunity to write something about it.

**A/N2:** ~39 C degrees is ~ 102.2 F degrees

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**60 sneezes later**

_By your-biohazardous-friend_

During the evening Lee's condition gradually got from bad to worse. He didn't just had butt cramps but all of his muscles were aching, making his being looking even more miserable than at the time he got from school. His running nose was all red due constant scratching against rough handkerchief. Despite any known to Mr. Ping's treatments Lee's nose remained running, making his son's breathing harder. While whenever the boy tried to clear his throat, it sounded as if he had liters of slime gurgling in his respiratory tract. Almost every gulp of air the teenager had to take by his mouth resulted with a fit of coughing sounding as if Lee really wanted to get rid of his own lungs.

But as always it is with a human body, the peak of the ordeal came at night. For red-haired Detentionaire time stopped to matter. If he wasn't sleeping with restless slumber, or at least he had opened eyes and responded incoherently when one's addressed to him, Mr. Alfred tried to force either medications or some food into his son's stomach. However it mostly ended with need to support Lee's frame above a wash bowl placed near his bed as the teen was vomiting everything sooner or later.

At the worst times the fever would spike up above thirty-nine Celsius degrees and which resulted with Lee's sweating buckets while shivering from cold like naked man at Arctic. At times like this the tenth grader would – if he was conscious enough - feel his body being lifted carefully by set of his father's hands, stripped from his sweat soaked pajama and re-clothed with fresh set of clothes. It was, literally, an all night long battle – every time Lee tried to dig out from his covers, Mr. Ping would tuck him in again and again.

What worried Lee's father the most – and he feared that if it went on he would need to call 911 - was the fact that his son seemed to be hallucinating. At first Lee was panicking of being infected with Space Zombie Flu. At other time Mr. Ping was his own wife who Lee tried to ensure he was not the one to blame for the infamous prank. The boy calmed down only after Mr. Ping embraced him tightly, rocking his son's sweaty frame, back and forth in a comforting manner – something Mrs. Ping didn't do to Lee for, at least, five years. The other time Mr. Alfred was mistaken for a boy called 'Biffy', who, in redhead's hallucination, tried to force Lee a kitten dressed in a hand made sweater.

But the weirdest and the most disturbing hallucination was the last one of the dreadful night as Mr. Ping's son started to ask, half-coherently, the thin air on his left about facial hair, monocle, top hat, tap dancing, talking, singing and dancing. After each question the boy would silence for a while, nodding his head, as if listening to the answers. Then questioning resumed being even more surreal: about secret passages and laboratories stretching under the school, brainwashing room, Lee's files, the Pings' family photo taken in Korea, cleaners and the Logo. At some of times Lee would nod, understandingly at some frown as if not receiving answer he desired to hear.

For Korean scientist the query Lee had with blank space was both interesting and disturbing. Mr. Ping eyed his son carefully, to which question he would nod? How much his son knew about this whole mess surrounding him? Mr. Alfred only hoped that Lee's curiosity wouldn't bring up certain person's attention or otherwise things could turn nasty way for their family and the whole A. Nigma High. Yet, as for now Korean scientist decided to set aside those grim thoughts about the knock-knock-jokes lover and focus on his son's weary frame, who's chest was now rising and falling almost rhythmically as he finally fell asleep drained by thoughtful 'interrogation'.

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First thing Lee felt, as his mind finally grasped the whole mess he was in, was a damp, tepid towel on his forehead. Teenager opened his eyes slowly and darted a tired look around his bedroom with reddened, watery eyes.

"hey son, how are you feeling?" came his father worried timbre.

"what? Where? When?" Lee answered sleepily rubbing his eyes. His voice barely audible due his sore throat.

"it seems that 'The Space Zombie Flu' got better of you last night" Mr. Ping joked handing his son a glass of water. The boy accepted the offer, drinking greedily.

"what are you talking about?"

"don't you remember anything from the night?"

The boy shook his head. "the last thing I remember was eating a soup and talking to Cam and Holger via video conference" Lee admitted, his voice sill hoarse as if his voice cords were treated with sandpaper "should I -?" he added suspiciously, but the rest of the question was cut with fit of disturbing coughing.

"no, no, it's all right, son-" Mr. Ping ensured patting his son's back "-get some more rest."

"you too dad" Lee answered eyeing his father's weary frame "you look like you've been up all night"

"I'll be downstairs… just call me if you need anything"

"I will"

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comments, advices, constructive criticism etc. are always **welcomed** and **appreciated**!


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